Climbing once more into his old buggy, he turned the horse's head in the direction of the post office. He had placed an advertisement in three newspapers published in three different towns. Someone may have written regarding the placement of a child on his farm. That would fill the vacancy just caused by the withdrawal of Cynthy. The thought afforded Peter pleasurable anticipation. It was followed by another that caused a horrid, sinister smile to twist his crooked face in a grimace so malignant that anyone observing it would have fled from his presence. "Thet thar least un's Maw--ef ther hain't no money cum from her ter-day, I know whut I'm a-goin' ter do. I cain't afford ter keep hit a-squallin' aroun' an' Mollie a-spendin' all her time a-keerin' fur hit. Ther hain't nawthin' ter be made harborin' them kind o' young-uns. A woman 'thout a man allus gits tared payin' money fer her young-un an' clars out. I reckon thet's whut she's done. Ef she thinks I'm a-goin' ter keep th' brat she's p'int-blank wrong." But the baby's mother was not so unnatural as Peter supposed. There was a letter from her among the mail awaiting Peter at the post office. The letter was a mere scrawl, on very soiled paper, and with it were several one dollar bills, also much soiled and crumpled. Peter recognized the handwriting before he opened the envelope. The same handwriting appeared on a small package that was also handed to Peter. It was marked: "Fragile--Handle with Care." He thrust the package into his pocket. "Another fool toy!" he muttered under his breath. "Thet woman's a plumb idjit." Before he had time to read the letter or to continue examining his mail he heard himself addressed. Thrusting the envelope with the soiled dollar bills into his pocket with the package and other letters, Peter turned to face the speaker. The latter was a man of about thirty-five years. He was somewhat stocky in build, well dressed, and had sharp, restless eyes that seemed to be ever on the alert as if he were expecting someone, watching for someone or was apprehensive of surveillance. At first glance he might have been described as rather prepossessing, but when he smiled, the manner in which his upper lip curled back from his teeth and drew up under his short, dark mustache made one feel that it boded ill for the person who thwarted his will or incurred his enmity. Peter stared for a moment before he recognized the man. The stranger's lip curled in a smile. Peter knew him then. But no answering smile twisted his face. Plainly he was not pleased by the encounter. "Howdy!" he ejaculated in a tone that would have discouraged anyone not having a special object in accosting him. Again the stranger smiled. He seemed to enjoy Peter's discomfiture. "Don't get alarmed," he remarked cheerfully. "I didn't come to take the girl away. You received that last money I sent, didn't you?" Peter became more cheerful. Instantly his face darkened.